ended to where I’d find him under the alcove, because even though I’d been there enough times to find it in my sleep, Mike still said he didn’t want to lose me on the way. He’d sprinkle rose petals or chocolates or birdseed — once he’d even left a few pairs of his boxers in the tree branches, like flags leading me right to him.
Tonight, the path was bare.
My heart raced at the thought of being stood up a third time, but when I dipped under the sheet of water to the alcove, Mike was there. He was seated on our rock with his head in his hands.
“You didn’t leave me a trail,” I said.
“I thought you liked doing things on your own,” he said. His black shirt sagged at the shoulders, and his face looked as white as the moon. “Besides,” he said sadly, “haven’t we left enough trails already?”
“Mike,” I said. He stood up when I went to him. We wrapped our arms around each other and just stood there for a moment.
“I’ve missed you,” I whispered.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered back, “about the other day.”
He lifted me up and I swung my legs around his waist. Then he backed me up against the wall of rocks and pressed his body against mine. We kissed. It was long and hot and very us. Something in me welled up with relief.
But when Mike pulled away, we both opened our eyes, and the unwelcome, unfamiliar fear found its way into our waterfall.
“What are we going to do?” he asked, setting me down.
“Look, I’ve got everything figured out,” I said, leading Mike back to his seat on the rock. From my backpack, I pulled out a foil-covered plate of my specialty Carolina Bourbon Brownies that always got Mike’s mind focused before a test.
“What’s all this?” he asked.
“Sustenance to help us strategize,” I said, popping a well-done corner piece in his mouth. “I’ve been thinking, just in case Baxter’s DVD does prove too hard to get a hold of, we’re going to need a plan B. Which is why I’ve found the perfect way to keep Officer Creeper in check.”
“I like the sound of that,” he said.
“You do?” I asked, leaning into him. Everything depended on Mike being with me on the plan.
“Are you kidding?” Mike raised an eyebrow in that sexy way of his. “After the way that guy treated you in the fishbowl the other day? I’m all ears.”
“A little bird tells me Officer Parker is packing an incriminating DVD or two of his own,” I said, gaining confidence as he egged me on. I wiggled my finger through his button-down shirt and tickled his ribcage. This was much more like it. “I’ll get us access to proof of O.P.’s statutory ways,” I said. “And if he’s still not cooperating, we might just have to air his dirty laundry.” I leaned in for the clincher. “During regularly scheduled ‘Path to Palmetto’ programming at the Ball.”
Since Mike and I had more footage of the two of us over the past three years than probably any other couple, everyone was expecting our film to be of Oscar-worthy caliber. We’d finished editing it way before Palmetto had even announced the winners, so all that was left to do was turn it in to the Anger, resident dance technician, who vetted it through the fishbowl to make sure it was PG enough for the dance. I loved our movie almost as much as I loved wearing the crown.
So it gave me a sizable pang of sadness to think about pulling our tape from the deck. But when I saw the intrigued look on Mike’s face, I knew it would be worth the sacrifice.
“You’re going to rig the ‘Path to Palmetto’ segment at the Ball to play an Officer Parker sex tape?” He laughed, incredulous. “You really want to do that? But you love our movie.”
“I also love the idea of blackmail for the blackmailer,” I said.
“Well, that would do the trick.”
I smiled. “He’ll be lamer than a Carolina duck in hunting season.”
Mike ran his hand through my hair. It felt so good I closed my eyes and just basked in the simple comfort of the moment. But when I opened them, his brow was furrowed yet again.
“What?” I asked, sitting up and taking his hand. “What’s going on with that look?”
Mike kissed my hand, but his eyes still looked worried. “I’m glad you figured something out about O.P. I mean, I could kill that guy. But there’s something I have to tell you.”
I nodded.
“I have some news about Baxter,” he said.
“He’s in rehab,” I said without looking up. “I know that.”
“Yeah, well, not for long.” Mike sighed. “He’s on his way back, just in time for the Ball on Friday.”
A rush of humid water from the fall seemed to choke me. I dropped the brownie in my hand.
“How did you hear about this?” I demanded. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I’m telling you now.” Mike sounded defensive. “I got a letter from him today. He says he knows what we’re up to, Nat. I don’t think he’s going to let us get away with it.”
“But. . what happened was an accident,” I stammered. “It wasn’t our fault!”
“I know that,” Mike agreed. “But what’s happened since J.B., all this plotting. .” He trailed off. “You do realize we’re framing someone with murder?”
“Of course, I realize it. I’ve spent every waking minute consumed by it. But what other choice do we have? It’s going to end up being Baxter’s word against ours. Who do you think the school’s going to believe?”
Mike stepped away. He was rubbing his forehead again.
“I think we’re in over our heads.” He bit his lip. “The letter came through Kate. I think she’s got his back.”
I narrowed my eyes. This was an unwanted twist. Under normal circumstances, I might have pulled Kate aside to school her on the perils of expecting too much from a guy like Baxter. I might have suggested she just cut her losses and move on. But Kate had crossed me twice now in the wrong week, when Mike and I didn’t have the time or energy to look out for anyone’s best interests other than our own.
“Kate is nothing more than a childish slut with too much money, and Baxter is a junkie,” I huffed finally. “I guarantee you as soon as she gets distracted by another guy, she’ll have no problem abandoning her post. It’s not like she’s getting any conjugal visits while Baxter’s under house arrest.”
“Okay,” Mike said, “so. .”
“So that’s it.” I smirked. “You get one of your linebacker friends to hit on her at the Ball. Make sure he takes her home. I guarantee, it will be like Baxter Quinn never even existed.”
Mike nodded, but he was starting to look confused again.
“Hey.” I cupped his chin. “Remember a short while ago when you loved my single-minded masterfulness?”
He gave a sad little laugh. “I do,” he said.
“It’s still me, baby. We’re still in this together. I just want to stand up there next to you and wear that crown. I know you want it, too.”
“I don’t know,” he said. His words came fast and sounded nervous. “It’s like, I want to reach out and touch you, to make you feel better, to make myself feel better. That’s all I know how to do.” He shook his head. “But recently, I feel like I don’t know anything. I love you and I’m trying, but I don’t know who you are.”
It was only then that I realized how disconnected Mike and I really were. We’d never had to try before. There’d never been a need to reconnect because we were always just together. Our friends even called us John and Yoko, teasing us because wherever one of us was, you could always find the other.
I reached for his belt buckle. Maybe it was a reflex. It was all I could think of to keep us together, even though part of me knew it was wrong.
“No,” he said, flicking my hand away.
I looked down at my hand as if I’d just been stung. I felt my face fall. Mike had just swatted me away. He didn’t mean it. He couldn’t.
I sat down next to him on the rock and pulled his lips to mine. He kissed back, but something about it was like a reflex more than a desire.
This was so frustrating. I wrapped my arms around his neck and kissed harder, slipping my tongue between his teeth. I waited for the pull on my bottom lip that always told me he was really into it. . but it never came.
